


Better Late Than Never

by rusty_armour



Series: Dogsbody [2]
Category: Primeval
Genre: First Time, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-16
Updated: 2009-11-16
Packaged: 2017-10-03 03:33:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,108
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rusty_armour/pseuds/rusty_armour
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While Quinn wonders what will come of the kiss, Lester has other things to worry about.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Better Late Than Never

**Author's Note:**

> This is a sequel to Ps &amp; Qs.
> 
> © 2009

"I'm sorry," Lorraine said. "I can't think what's keeping him. It's really not like him to be late." She shot another anxious look at her watch. "I tried calling him on his mobile, but he must have either forgotten to turn it on or he let the battery run down."

The team was gathered around the conference table for the 9:00 meeting Lester had scheduled last week, only it was now 9:20 and Lester was a no-show. Quinn bit his lip and avoided making eye contact with anyone. He had a pretty good idea why Lester was late and he found himself wishing once again that he'd stuck around last night. However, at the time, it had seemed more prudent to disappear and not be around for an awkward morning after in which Lester may or may not have remembered what had gone on the night before. Now, his mind was tormenting him with all kinds of nasty scenarios.

What if Lester had gotten up during the night and had tripped and fallen? He could be lying in his flat, bleeding and unconscious, while the people who worked under him joked about why he was late. Quinn was about to inform Connor that he was positive Lester hadn't been abducted by aliens, when the man himself finally walked into the conference room.

Quinn heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Well, look what the cat dragged in."

"'Dragged' being the operative word," Becker muttered, and Quinn couldn't help agreeing. Lester's eyes were bloodshot and he seemed haggard and pale. Lorraine took one look at him and walked out of the conference room. Lester didn't seem to notice. He sank down in the nearest chair, clinging to a Costa expresso.

"I apologize for being late. You wouldn't believe the traffic." Lester took a long sip of his coffee and closed his eyes. They stayed closed even after he lowered the cup.

"Uh, are you okay?" Abby asked. "Because you look…Well, you look…"

"Like crap," Connor said.

Lester opened his eyes and stared at Connor blearily. "I'm fine."

No one looked convinced. In fact, Quinn was sure that everyone was beginning to suspect what was wrong, if they didn't know already.

"I think there's a stomach bug going around," Quinn said.

Lester glared at him. "Oh? Contagious, is it? Perhaps I caught it from you?"

_Well, I did try to help you, Lester_. "I think it's more likely that you caught it in a public place. Maybe a pub."

Lester raised an eyebrow. "And I suppose you'd know all about the kind of contagions someone might be exposed to in a pub."

Quinn smiled. "Oh, I doubt I'm as knowledgeable as you are, guv."

"Uh, am I missing something?" Connor asked. He glanced from Lester to Quinn and then back to Lester again.

"No, absolutely nothing," Lester said. He cleared his throat. "Should we begin?"

They were only about two minutes into the meeting when Lorraine walked back into the conference room and set a glass down in front of Lester. It looked like a combination of water and Alka-Seltzer. Lester stared at the glass in confusion.

"Drink it," Lorraine said. "All of it. Right now."

Quinn wasn't sure if it was fear, desperation, or unquestioning faith in his secretary's abilities that made Lester raise the glass to his lips.

Lorraine stood over Lester, hands on her hips. "Go on. Straight down. Keep swallowing. Swallow, swallow, swallow. That's it. Good."

Lester actually smiled when he handed the empty glass back. "Lorraine, I think I love you."

Lorraine snorted. "Wow. I haven't heard you say that since I cleared the spyware off your computer."

"Yes, but I mean it this time," Lester said.

Lorraine shook her head, but Quinn could see that her lips were twitching as she left the room.

Lester straightened his tie and shot an impatient look at Connor. "Well, get on with it. I haven't got all day."

  


  
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Quinn followed Lester back to his office when the meeting had ended.

"Are you really okay?" Quinn asked.

Lester set his briefcase down on his desk, wincing at the thud. "I'm not talking to you," he said.

Quinn stared at Lester in disbelief. "I'm sorry. What?"

Lester draped his jacket over the back of his chair and sat down. "You got me drunk last night and now I'm suffering because of it."

Quinn's eyebrows rose. "_I_ got you drunk? That's funny because I don't remember pouring any alcohol down your throat."

"No, but you made sure there was a steady supply, didn't you?" Lester raised a hand above his head and started snapping. "Oi, darling! Can I have another pint over here for my friend?"

Quinn crossed his arms. "I don't sound anything like that," he said, though he secretly thought Lester's imitation was rather good.

Lester opened his briefcase and pulled out a set of files. "Well, it doesn't really matter to me what you sound like as I don't expect to hear your voice for the rest of the day, unless there's an anomaly alert."

Quinn sighed. "Lester-"

"Oh, it's Friday, isn't it?" Lester said. "That means I shan't have to hear your voice again until Monday. How nice." He smiled to himself as he opened one of the files, and Quinn made sure he stomped his feet loudly as he marched out of Lester's office.

There was an anomaly alert, but it didn't come through until after 10:00 pm, when even Lester had gone home for the weekend. They traced the anomaly to a club in Soho, which was easy to find due to the mass of people that had flooded outside. Most of the clubbers seemed dazed and confused, but Quinn could see at least a few girls who were crying. A couple more were hysterical. Quinn was glad to be dealing with whatever had emerged from the anomaly rather than the clubbers, though he'd dealt with enough riots when he'd been a cop to feel pity for the three men Becker posted outside to disperse the crowd.

Given the lack of blood, corpses, and carnage in general, Quinn assumed that they must be dealing with a creature, or creatures, that was herbivore. However, what he hadn't expected to see were two dozen dodos waddling around the dance floor. An even bigger surprise was the dark-haired girl in a purple tank top and black mini skirt. She had one of the dodos wedged under her arm and was trying to pry its beak open.

"Hi," Quinn said.

The girl looked up, cursing under her breath when the dodo almost escaped from her grip.

"Uh, what are you doing?" Quinn asked.

"It ate my mobile," the girl said.

Quinn stared at the girl, wondering if he could have possibly heard her right. "I'm sorry. What did you say?"

The girl rolled her eyes and then repeated herself slowly, emphasizing every word. "It…ate…my…mobile."

"I…see," Quinn said, speaking equally slowly. He moved closer to the girl, trying not to trip on any dodos. "I hate to break it to you, but I don't think you're getting it back-not in the same condition it went in, anyway."

The girl glared at Quinn. "I have to get it back: this is the second one I've lost this month, and my dad says he won't pay for another one."

"Couldn't you just tell your dad that it was lost due to unforeseen circumstances?" Connor asked.

"Oh, yes," the girl said. "I'll just tell him a deformed turkey swallowed it, shall I?"

Quinn felt the hairs prickle on the back of his neck. There was something familiar about the girl, but he couldn't figure out what. "Look, give me the bird and we'll see what we can do."

The girl clutched the dodo tighter and backed away. That was when Abby decided to step in.

"Hi," Abby said. "I used to be a zookeeper. If you let me operate on the do-turkey, I'll do my best to save your mobile."

"Can you operate on it now?" the girl asked.

Abby exchanged a look with Quinn. "Well, I'll need to operate soon or the bird could die, but I can't do it here. I'll have to take it back to the…my lab." She pulled out her own mobile. "If you could just give me your name and a number where I can reach you-"

"You know what? Forget it. It probably won't work now, anyway." The girl handed the dodo to Quinn and started to move past him. Quinn quickly tucked the dodo under his arm, reaching out with his free hand to grasp the girl's shoulder.

"How old are you?" Quinn demanded. Close up, she appeared to be no more than 14 or 15, despite the clothes and makeup.

The girl shrugged off Quinn's hand. "I'm 18."

Quinn shook his head sadly. "Let's see your ID, luv."

"Let's see yours," the girl said.

Quinn laughed. "What?"

The girl raised her chin. "Unless you're a bouncer, bartender or cop, I don't have to show you _anything_."

It was at times like this that Quinn missed his badge. "I used to be a cop, all right? I'm afraid that's going to have to do."

"Not good enough," the girl said.

Quinn gritted his teeth and, stepping over a couple of dodos, handed his own bird to Abby. Then he was back in front of the girl. "Look, sweetheart, I'm sure your mum and dad must be very worried about you. How about you give them a call?"

The girl smiled. "They won't be worried. They think I'm at a sleepover. Besides, I can't call them. That stupid turkey ate my mobile."

Quinn sighed in exasperation. "You can borrow mine."

The girl shook her head. "No way."

"Then I won't have any choice but to escort you to the nearest police station," Quinn said. "I'm sure they could track your parents down."

The girl's green eyes flashed. "You're not escorting me _anywhere_. You're not a cop anymore, so you _can't_."

Quinn studied the girl thoughtfully. "Well, in that case, I could just report you and get one of my old mates to arrest you."

"That's police brutality and-and an abuse of the system," the girl said. "You're-you're trying to promote a police state."

Quinn's mouth fell open. "_What_?"

The girl scowled at him. "Oh, don't try to deny it. You're hoping to set up a totalitarian regime and take away my democratic rights. Well, you're not going to get away with it." She crossed her arms and arched an eyebrow, and Quinn suddenly knew _exactly_ why she seemed so familiar. He'd seen her picture last night in Lester's flat. Judging by Connor's startled gasp, he had also recognized her.

"What is it?" Sarah asked.

Connor pointed excitedly at the girl. "She's Lester's daughter!"

Sarah gaped at the girl. "Lester has a _kid_?"

"Kids," Connor said. "Plural. He's got two little boys as well."

Becker, who had been holding a discussion with his men on how best to deal with the dodos, froze and turned towards Connor. "_Lester_? You're joking."

Quinn smirked at the girl and arched an eyebrow of his own.

"I don't know what you're talking about." The girl's expression hadn't changed, but her metallic blue nails were digging into her arms.

"Connor, call Lester," Quinn said.

Connor's eyes widened. "_Me_? You want _me_ to call Lester?"

Quinn rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Lester's not talking to me at the moment. Besides, you were his flatmate."

The girl stared at Connor in shock before remembering that she wasn't supposed to know what they were talking about. Connor pulled out his mobile and dialed Lester's number.

"So, do you have a first name, Miss Lester?" Quinn asked.

"Piss off," the girl said.

  


  
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It turned out that the girl's first name wasn't "Piss off" but Emma. Abby managed to get that much out of her when she asked Emma where she'd bought her tank top. They were discussing the merits of H&amp;M over the Gap when Lester stormed into the club.

He had obviously left for the club as soon as he'd gotten off the phone with Connor as he wasn't wearing a jacket or tie. "Where is she? Is she all right?" Lester came to a halt when he saw Emma, staring at her in horror. "Dear God, what are you _wearing_?"

"Don't you like it?" Emma asked.

"Of course I don't like it!" Lester said. "You look like-like…"

"A minor sneaking into a club?" Quinn suggested.

"Yes! You look like that!" Lester scrubbed a hand across his face as if he might banish the sight, but Emma was still dressed the same when his eyes fell on her again. "Dammit. I should have worn my jacket," he muttered.

Quinn shot a look at Connor, who picked up on what Quinn was thinking and removed his jacket, handing it to Lester.

Lester seemed surprised but grateful. "Thanks, Connor." He tossed the jacket to his daughter. "Put it on."

Emma stared at the jacket disdainfully. "I'm not wearing _that_."

"Put it on," Lester snarled. "_Now_."

"You're such a prude," Emma said, but she put the jacket on.

"How could you do this to your mother?" Lester demanded. "How could you do this to _me_? Do you hate me? Is that it?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Not everything in my life is about _you_."

"Of course it is!" Lester exclaimed. "I'm your father!"

"Yeah, on weekends," Emma muttered, "or when it's convenient."

"Right," Lester said. "Go to the car. You're grounded forever."

"Whatever." Emma began heading towards the exit, but Lester caught one of the sleeves of her oversized jacket.

"Is it because of the divorce?" Lester asked. "Is that why you're acting out?"

"Oh, please," Emma said. "The divorce was, like, _ages_ ago."

Lester didn't release the sleeve. "But there has to be a reason. Is it school? Drugs? A…a boy?"

Emma laughed. "God, you're such a drama queen. I just did it for a lark, okay?"

Lester frowned. "A lark? You frightened me half to death and almost gave me a coronary for a _lark_?" He shook his head. "No, you're a bright girl, Emma. There has to be more to it than that."

Quinn could see that Lester was trying to clutch at more than his daughter's sleeve: he was searching for a lifeline. Emma seemed to pick up on this immediately, if the calculating look in her eyes was anything to go by.

"Well, there is one thing," Emma said, sounding almost hesitant.

"What?" Lester asked. "What is it?"

Emma bit her lip. "I didn't want to say anything because I was afraid it might upset you, but it's about Mum's boyfriend."

Lester's eyes widened. "_Boyfriend_? No, no, no, no, no. They've only been on the one date."

Emma shrugged. "Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but Mum did bring him round to meet us afterwards."

Lester blanched. "She did?"

Emma nodded. "Yeah, like she was looking for our approval or something."

"Oh God," Lester said.

Emma put a hand on Lester's shoulder. "It's okay, Dad. He's an estate agent and he drives a Smart car. He called me 'princess' and asked me if I still liked Barbies."

Lester snorted. "You sold all your Barbie dolls when you were ten."

"Exactly," Emma said. "The guy's a complete tosser."

Lester massaged the bridge of his nose. "Do your brothers like him?"

"Well, yeah," Emma said, "but only because he said he'd get them tickets for Monster Trucks."

Lester looked up sharply. "_I_ was going to take them to Monster Trucks."

Emma smiled sympathetically. "I know, Dad."

"Hmm." Lester stood engrossed in thought for a moment then said, "No wonder you've been acting out. I'd be acting out too if I had to deal with a patronizing sycophantic estate agent in a Smart car." He released the jacket sleeve and reached out to push a strand of Emma's hair behind her ear. "Leave it with me. I'll deal with it."

"Are you going to have him deported?" Emma asked eagerly.

Lester smiled at his daughter affectionately. "Well, that might be a bit drastic, though he drives a Smart car so it's certainly tempting." He reached into his trouser pocket and pulled out the keys to his Mercedes. "You run along to the car, and I'll be there in a few minutes."

Emma took the car keys solemnly. "Okay, Dad."

Quinn waited until Emma had left the dance floor, and was well out of earshot, before saying, "She's playing you, Lester."

Lester raised an eyebrow. "Playing me? Quinn, she's a fifteen-year-old girl with issues, that's all."

Quinn crossed his arms. "I think you'll find it's _issue_ -singular-and it's your issue, not hers."

Lester sighed. "This is another one of your feeble attempts at pop psychology, isn't it?" he asked. "Well, as I'm Emma's father, and have known her for fifteen years as opposed to fifteen minutes, I think I might be slightly more qualified to assess the situation."

Quinn lifted his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I was just trying to help, boss, and, for the record, my own qualifications involve dealing with minors who have committed countless offences, including the illicit use of alcohol and drugs."

Lester's eyes narrowed. "And was my daughter engaged in any of these activities?"

"No," Quinn said. "She was too busy wrestling with the dodo that swallowed her mobile and accusing me of totalitarianism."

"Oh, hell. She's lost another mobile?" Lester's eyes shifted to Abby. "Can you get it out?"

Abby nodded. "Yeah, it shouldn't be a problem, though I really need to get this little fellow back to the ARC if I'm going to-"

"Yes, of course," Lester said. "Go ahead." He walked over to Connor. "So do we have anything else to worry about besides the dodos?"

Quinn grew increasingly angry and confused as he watched Lester. How could a man of Lester's intelligence be so easily manipulated by a stroppy teenage girl? Sarah appeared at Quinn's side and, as if reading his mind, said, "Lester's not stupid, Danny. He'll figure it out."

"How?" Quinn asked. "She's got him wrapped so tightly around her little finger-"

"He's her father. He can't help it." Sarah smiled as she glanced over at Lester. "Just give him some time. He may not be capable of rational thought when he's around her, but he's not blind."

Quinn nodded, though he wasn't entirely convinced. He had been hoping to have a little chat with Lester about the kiss, but there didn't seem to be much point now. Even if Lester remembered some of the finer details of Thursday night, he wouldn't be in the right mood or frame of mind to discuss it. He was distracted by other things.

  


  
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Quinn was sure there was once a time when he'd gone out and had fun on Saturday nights. Yet, lately, he'd taken to holing himself up in his flat and reading old case files from the ARC. It might have been funny if it hadn't been so pathetically and lamentably sad. Quinn was about one-third of the way through a file on a herd of hylaeosauruses that had appeared in Epping Forest when there was a knock on his door.

His first thought was that his elderly neighbour Mrs. Leibowitz had lost her cat and was going door-to-door to ask if anyone had seen Whiskers, but then Quinn remembered that she'd gone to Norwich to stay with her son and had taken Whiskers with her. He looked through the peek-hole and wondered if he was hallucinating when he saw James Lester standing in the hallway. More than that, it was Lester in the hallway wearing jeans and a polo shirt. However, when Quinn opened the door, Lester seemed real enough, even without the suit.

Lester gave an awkward little wave. "I wasn't sure if you'd be in on a Saturday night, but I thought I'd stop by just in case." When Quinn just stared at him, Lester said, "Perhaps I should have called first."

Quinn snapped out of his trance. "No, it's all right. I'm just surprised to see you. I thought you'd be with your kids."

Lester smiled ruefully. "That's actually the reason why I'm here or, rather, Emma is."

Quinn felt himself tense. "Is she okay? She's not in trouble again, is she?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Her mother and I discovered that she was lying about more than just the sleepover." Lester crossed his arms and didn't quite meet Quinn's eyes. "You were right, Danny. She was playing me."

Quinn might have been tempted to gloat if Lester hadn't looked so miserable. "I'm sorry," he said.

Lester's eyes flew back to Quinn's face. "You have nothing to be sorry about. If anyone should be apologizing, it should be me, especially as Emma accused you of totalitarianism."

Quinn's lips twitched. "Don't worry about it. Teenagers can be a handful at the best of times." He tossed a look over his shoulder. "Would you like to come in? My flat might be a more comfortable place to chat than the hall."

"That would be nice," Lester said. "Thank you." He followed Quinn into the flat, raising an eyebrow at the files scattered across Quinn's coffee table and couch. "My, someone's been busy."

Quinn blushed and began scooping up files. "I've been trying to learn as much as I can about the Anomaly Project and the kinds of creatures I might be facing in future."

"How very industrious of you." Lester sat down on the couch. "You know, you are allowed to have a life outside the ARC."

"Well, after some of the things I've seen, life outside the ARC pales a bit in comparison," Quinn said.

Lester snorted. "After some of the things _I've_ seen, I'm bloody grateful that life outside the ARC _does_ pale in comparison."

Quinn grinned. Lester did have a point. "Can I get you something? I promise to keep you sober this time." Not waiting for an answer, Quinn dug out a bottle of whiskey from his liquor cabinet. After he had set two glasses on the coffee table, he said, "So, what else was your daughter lying about?"

Lester scowled. "Apparently, Joanna-that's my ex-wife-didn't bring her date back to the house because she was looking for approval from our kids: she brought him back because he insisted on meeting them and wouldn't take no for an answer. Joanna was hoping that Emma would put the stupid git off, as she often seems to have that effect on people, but no such luck. In the end, Joanna had to use the direct approach and tell him to bugger off."

Quinn took a sip from his glass. "So, you don't have to worry about the estate agent with the Smart car stealing your children's affections."

Lester looked sheepish. "Uh, no. Joanna told me in no uncertain terms that I had nothing to worry about on that count, that I would always be their father no matter what happens." He gazed down at the arm of the couch. "Joanna and I ended up having a rather long discussion. I suppose you could say that we cleared the air."

"That's great," Quinn said. "It sounds like you both had things you needed to get off your chests."

Lester nodded. "Yes, I think it's fair to say that neither one of us held anything back, which brings me to the other reason why I'm here."

"Oh?" Quinn asked.

Lester reached for his glass, draining almost the entire contents in one gulp. "I told Joanna that you kissed me, and she said that if I didn't talk to you she would do it herself."

Quinn gaped at Lester. "You told your ex-wife that I kissed you?" His eyes widened. "You _remembered_ that I kissed you?"

Lester's brow furrowed. "Is there any reason why I'd forget?"

"No, answer the first question before the second one, Lester," Quinn said.

Lester took a deep breath. "She was my wife: I _had_ to tell her. She knew there was something I wasn't telling her - and that it wasn't about work for once." He sighed. "She knows me a little _too_ well, I'm afraid."

"How did she take it?" Quinn asked, not sure if he really wanted to know.

"Surprisingly well," Lester said. "Very well, in fact. She said she was happy for me."

Quinn raised his eyebrows. "That was pretty open-minded of her."

Lester shrugged. "Well, that's Joanna for you."

Quinn knew he should probably let it go, but he couldn't. "Wasn't she surprised at all?"

Lester laughed mirthlessly. "Apparently, she's suspected for some time that I might be gay or, at least, bi." He lifted his glass and drank what little whiskey was left. "I wish she had let me in on the joke. I didn't have a bloody clue."

"Oh," Quinn said. "Is that why you didn't say anything about the kiss yesterday?"

Lester closed his eyes and rested his head against the back of the couch. "I didn't know how to handle the situation, and the hangover certainly didn't help. At the time, it seemed easiest not to say anything. It didn't occur to me that you'd think I'd forgotten, though I suppose I shouldn't be surprised given the circumstances."

Quinn nodded. "Well, I've seen people have blackouts after drinking less." He draped his arm over the back of the couch, moving a little bit closer to Lester in the process. "What exactly did you mean when you said you didn't know how to handle the situation?" he asked.

Lester opened his eyes, staring at Quinn for a moment before speaking. "Well, I suppose the simplest explanation is that I didn't know what the kiss meant. Were you actually coming on to me or, to quote my daughter, did you just do it for a lark?" Lester raised his hand when Quinn opened his mouth to speak. "Before you say anything, I'll understand if it were the latter. If my boss had been pissed, I certainly would have been tempted to mess with his head."

Quinn grimaced. "You wouldn't have kissed him, though, would you?"

"Good God, no!" Lester said.

"I'm glad to hear it." Quinn shifted again, inching even closer to Lester. "What if I told you that I hadn't been larking about?"

Lester swallowed nervously. "I-I don't know. I suppose I'd ask you for some proof of your claim."

"I think that can be arranged," Quinn said. Then he leaned in and pressed his lips down on Lester's. Lester tilted his head to give Quinn better access, one hand wrapping around the back of Quinn's neck. Quinn ran his tongue gently along the crease of Lester's lips, and Lester opened his mouth, admitting Quinn's tongue. Lester moaned softly as Quinn began to suck on his tongue, and his other hand rose to caress the side of Quinn's neck.

Both men were breathless by the time they pulled apart. Quinn couldn't help being smug when he saw the glazed look in Lester's eyes and the tell-tale bulge in his jeans.

"So, was that proof enough for you?" Quinn asked.

"I think I still need convincing," Lester said and, cupping Quinn's face in both hands, he kissed him slowly and deeply. Then Lester's lips moved lower, and he was nuzzling and nibbling Quinn's neck. When Lester bit Quinn's earlobe, Quinn gasped and felt himself grow harder. He grabbed the hem of Lester's polo shirt and yanked it over his head. Lester barely had time to glare before Quinn pushed him back against the arm of the couch. Quinn bent his head to suck on a nipple and was happy to hear Lester moan a second time.

"How-how far are we going to take this?" Lester asked.

Quinn trailed a finger through Lester's chest hair. "As far as you'd like. I was thinking we could keep things simple-maybe jerk each other off."

Lester's breath hitched. "That sounds feasible, though perhaps we could take this somewhere else and spare my back."

"How about my bed?" Quinn suggested.

"Your bed would work," Lester said.

The journey to the bedroom took longer than usual as Quinn and Lester kept exchanging kisses and divesting each other of clothing. They were both completely naked by the time they reached the bed, and Quinn managed to pull back the sheets before he and Lester tumbled on to the mattress. This time, it was Lester shoving Quinn down, though Quinn didn't mind, especially when he worked a hand between them and grabbed Lester's cock. Lester hissed through his teeth, his hips bucking.

"That's the idea," Quinn murmured. He opened his hand and seized his own cock as well as Lester's, gripping them tightly in a fist. Lester gasped and jerked again, his fingers digging into Quinn's shoulders. It took a couple of attempts for them to find the right rhythm, but, once they did, it was a rapid ascent for them both.

Lester came first, shuddering and stifling a whimper against Quinn's neck. Quinn didn't even try to muffle his voice, shouting out loud as his body shook and he climaxed. After that, they just lay there in a panting sweaty heap, until Lester rolled off Quinn and on to his back.

Lester made a face when he saw his stomach. "Eww. I'm all sticky."

Quinn sighed and got up, going in search of a washcloth and a towel. When they were both clean, he climbed back into bed and pulled the sheets up over them. "Can you stay the night?" he asked.

"Yes," Lester said, "but I'll need to return home in the morning." He yawned and turned on his side, snuggling down into his pillow.

On impulse, Quinn kissed Lester's shoulder and wrapped an arm around his waist, spooning up against him.

Lester went tense for an instant before slowly relaxing. "I feel like a teddy bear," he grumbled.

"Yeah, you do," Quinn said, rubbing the hair on Lester's chest. "You're all furry."

Lester groaned. "I should have known it would be a mistake sleeping with you."

"Ah, you don't really mean that, do you?" Quinn nuzzled the back of Lester's neck, pulling him closer.

Lester squirmed but made no attempt to escape from Quinn's arms. "No, I suppose not. In fact, it really would have been nice if Joanna could have set me straight about my sexuality before today as we could have been doing this much sooner."

"Oh, well," Quinn said. "Better late than never."

  



End file.
